


The Weight of the World

by AnnaofAza



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean, Grief/Mourning, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Post-Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe In Miracles?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cas arrives at the bunker, Sam pours him a drink and makes him sit down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of the World

When Cas arrives at the bunker, Sam pours him a drink and makes him sit down.

It takes about thirty seconds to explain, but Cas stares at the amber liquid, untouched in a chipped coffee mug, for so long that it seems like forever. Sam takes another sip, straight from the bottle, and waits. His hands are trembling so hard that he has to concentrate hard to make sure he doesn’t drop something. His head pounds like a second heartbeat: _find him, find him, find him._

Cas finally speaks: “Where is he?”

"I don’t know," Sam answers shakily.

"We have to find him." But Cas doesn’t move an inch from his seat. His eyes are fixed on the perfectly-still surface of the alcohol. It’s strong stuff, something Sam personally thought was stored since the bunker was built. It was something he’d planned to give to Dean some day, maybe for his birthday, or just if the mood struck.

Sam clears his throat, tasting the sweetness before the salt, eyes blurry. Half of it is from the lack of sleep. The breaths he takes are shuddering, raw and ripping him to the bone. “Cas…what do you suggest? How do we find him?”

Cas is still frozen, slumped over the table. His usually-orderly appearance is still in place, but when he tips his head up to look Sam directly in the eye, he looks _wrecked_. Sam sees Dad in the gray-blue depths, angry and frustrated but shattered, the fire still burning slowly through his chest. He knows that the fire replayed in his mind, over and over, what he could have done to stop it, but didn't. He knows that the fire never dimished or cooled into lifeless ashes. The fire stayed alive, eating at him, never quenching.

He’s noticed it all, before, and everything shows on Cas’ face. Cas is tired of bloodshed, weary with the weight of bodies on his shoulders. But one thing he feels that he’s done right is keeping Dean safe. Cas has been hunted and hated, but knows what exactly he’d do to keep one man alive and well.

And that scares him to death.

Sam just looks back at Cas, who’s just met his eyes.

_Did you know? You see the guy you yanked out of Hell, but you also see the idiot who barrels head-first into a fight and is too crazy about his car and sings off-key to the same old tapes and loves beer and pie and home-cooked meals. Back then, it was something you maybe knew and maybe didn’t want to know—that he makes you as reckless as him. But…now you definitely know. You know, don’t you?_

"I…" Cas swallows, tries again, but doesn’t speak. His hands are now curled around the cup, and he lowers his eyes again. Sam notices red around the lids and the pupils.

When Cas speaks, he’s detached but moving quickly, like a loose train carriage.

"Dean, we can…we can summon him. I’ll listen, too, because if Dean Winchester is a…" He chokes, but continues: "a demon, then it should be spreading like wildfire. We will find him, Sam."

His eyes are now hard with determination and something else.

Sam knows what it is, because he sees himself, standing over Jess’ grave.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out, and you can find me at annaofaza on tumblr!


End file.
